


Joke

by AutisticWriter



Category: The Fast Show
Genre: Anger, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, Illness, M/M, One Shot, Repression, Sickfic, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:02:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutisticWriter/pseuds/AutisticWriter
Summary: After Ted's friends humiliate Ralph, Ted isn't going to let a little thing like the 'flu stop him resolving the problem.This fic takes place during and immediately after the Ted and Ralph sketch in episode 2 of 'The Last Fast Show Ever'.





	

“...Now, I know the common name, but does the team know the correct term for ‘grass bandits’?” Ralph asks.

He leans against the arm of the sofa and bites his lip. He can hear what sounds very much like the radio hosts having muffled hysterics. But he doesn’t know why they are laughing; has he said something funny?

“Um, hello?” he says, hoping they can still hear him.

“Yeah, we can hear you, Mr Mayhew,” the first host says, his voice shaking with giggles.

“So... uh, do you have the answer?” Ralph asks. His heart rate is starting to increase, his chest tightening.

“Answer?” the second host says.

“You know... to my question.”

For a few seconds, they fall silent. But then Ralph hears them spluttering with laughter again, and he knows they are still on the line.

“I think you’ve been ‘ad, son,” the second host says, still struggling to suppress his laughter.

“There’s no such thing as ‘grass bandits’.”

The second man says something else, but is drowned out by another wave of laughter.

Ralph sighs. “I see. Right then, sorry for bothering you. Thanks.”

He puts the phone down and sits down on the sofa. He sighs again. He can’t believe that Ted’s friends would lie to him like this. There he was, naively thinking that they liked him, and now they’ve just humiliated him in front of God-knows-how-many listeners. Now he thinks about it, it’s obvious they were just being cruel to him; of course ‘grass bandits’ aren’t real! He really wishes he wasn’t so gullible.

And he also wishes that Ted was here. He always feels better when Ted is around.

\---

As Ted sits up in bed, rubbing his throbbing temples, he realises that he can’t remember a time he felt this angry. Without thinking about how ill he feels, Ted hauls himself out of bed, knowing he needs to go and sort this out.

Those bastards, he thinks, how dare they humiliate Ralph like that!

He knows his friends often wind Ralph up, but this has gone too far. A joke is one thing, but getting Ralph to say that on their local radio is out of order. As he grumbles to himself and tries to ignore the way his whole head hurts, Ted stuffs his feet into his boots and grabs his coat, not bothering to get properly dressed.

By the time Ted has made it to the front door, he has to stop for a rest. He wipes his runny nose and leans against the doorframe, feeling very weak and wobbly. As he gets his breath back, Ted considers his plan. Where should he go first? He knows he needs to give each of his friends a kick up the arse for being bastards to Ralph, but he should probably go and see Ralph first, just in case he’s upset. Yes, he’ll go and see Ralph.

And so Ted sets off towards the big house. He may be nearing sixty, but Ted has always been very physically fit and active; at least, he was before he got this bloody virus. Ralph insisted on calling the doctor out last week, and he was quickly and easily diagnosed with the ‘flu. And, as the doctor couldn’t give him anything other than some throat lozenges and an order to rest, Ralph said he could have as long as he needed to recover.

So, what with his bed rest and his very kind and helpful employer, and the fact that his friends were chipping in and doing some of his work for him while he was laid up, Ted had thought his recovery was going to be a relaxing, calm experience. And, to be honest, it has been – well, up until that bloody ‘joke’ they played on Ralph. Now he’s bloody stressed and his whole body feels even worse for it.

He hates how weak the ‘flu is making him feel. He can usually walk for miles and carry heavy equipment around the grounds for hours on end, but at the moment he can barely stand upright without feeling like he is going to collapse. He’s horribly out of breath and can’t stop shivering, even though there is sweat running down his back and he knows he’s running a high fever. His legs are shaky and tired and he has to keep stopping to catch his breath and blow his nose, so the walk ends up taking him about five times as long as it should have done.

But, eventually, he arrives at the big house. Ted stumbles up the front steps and knocks on the door, leaning against the doorframe to stop himself wobbling. After a minute or so, Ralph opens the door. And then he just stares at him.

“Ted?” he gasps, the expression on his face making Ted want to chuckle. “What’re you doing here?”

“I heard you on the radio, sir,” Ted says, his voice thick with mucus.

Ralph’s cheeks flush, and he stares down at his feet. “Ah.”

They stand in an awkward silence for about a minute before Ted remembers why he is here. He clears his phlegmy throat, making Ralph jump slightly.

“Is it all right if I come in, sir?” he asks, sniffing.

“Of course, of course, Ted,” Ralph says, stammering slightly. “You must still be feeling dreadful. Please, come in.”

Ralph leads him into the living room, and gestures for him to sit on the sofa. Ted does so, immensely relieved to rest his aching legs. He smiles weakly.

“Thank you, sir,” he says.

He leans forwards and wraps his arms around his chest, feeling the shivers making his whole body tremble. Ted pulls his handkerchief out of his pocket and blows his nose, finding his fingers shaking and making his sore nose sting. He exhales slowly, wanting to groan but not wanting Ralph to worry about him.

Ralph is stood by the opposite sofa, his hands clasped awkwardly. He is staring around the room, but keeps glancing at Ted out of the corner of his eye as though he doesn’t want Ted to notice. When Ted has finished blowing his nose, however, Ralph steps closer and actually looks at him; his face is tense.

“You’re shivering, Ted,” Ralph says, and the concern is audible in his voice. “Would you like a blanket?”           

“If you don’t mind, sir,” Ted mumbles, not wanting to put him out.

“No, of course I don’t mind,” Ralph says, smiling. “I’ll just get one.”

Ralph hurries out of the room, the creaking old floorboards telling Ted exactly where he is in the house. After a few minutes he comes back, carrying a stack of blankets. He drops them on the sofa and starts rummaging through them. Ted stares at him, hating how stressed he suddenly looks.

“I feel like such an idiot, Ted,” Ralph says, avoiding looking at him as he unfolds an old, fleecy blanket.

“Why, sir?” Ted asks, despite knowing exactly what Ralph is referring to.

“Here you are,” he says, and he unfolds the blanket and covers Ted with it.

Ted smiles, feeling his already burning face flush as Ralph’s hands brush against his shoulders. “Thank you, sir.” Realising Ralph hasn’t answered his question, he adds, “So why do you feel like an idiot, sir?”

Ralph sighs as he sits down beside Ted. He sits a bit too close, and quickly shuffles so there is a larger gap between them. “Because of... because of what I said on the radio, Ted. I fell for a horrible joke and humiliated myself.”

“I know, sir,” Ted says. “But it’s not your fault. It wouldn’t have happened if they hadn’t been being mean to you.”

“I know that’s true, Ted, but I just feel so stupid for falling for it. The thing is... it wasn’t just that one comment. For the entire time I was talking to them, they kept making comments about planting pansies for me, and talking about a limp willow—” Ralph moves his hand so his wrist is limp and sighs again. “They even called me an uphill gardener.”

Ted’s eyes widen. “Fecking hell. I’m sorry this has happened, sir,” he says, wiping his running nose.

“It’s not your fault, Ted.”

“I know, sir, but I recommended them to help you out while I’m ill,” Ted insists. “I know it’s not my fault, but I’m still sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that. It must’ve made you feel awful.”

Ralph lets out a shuddering sigh. “Yes, it did. Thank you for coming, Ted,” he says, and his bottom lip wobbles. “It means a lot to me.”

Ted almost wants to cry; Ralph looks so sad. He considers taking Ralph’s hand, but he’s too nervous to. Instead, he blows his nose and tells himself that he’s going to give his friend’s shit for this – because, when Ted’s around, no one upsets Ralph and gets away with it.

\---

“You fecking wankers!” Ted snaps as he storms up to his friends in the pub. He’s almost recovered from his ‘flu, and he now feels well enough to tell the bastards what he thinks about the ‘joke’ they played on Ralph.

“It’s great to see you too, Ted,” Simon says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ha fecking ha,” Ted says, folding his arms across his chest. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you two. Why exactly did you tell Ral— Mr Mayhew about a load of made up plants that _just happened_ to have homophobic names?”

Simon and Bill stare at him, their eyes widening. Ted has to fight the look of smug satisfaction that wants to cover his face. The pair of them look at each other, before turning back to Ted.

“It... it was a joke?” Bill tries.

“A joke, was it? Well I didn’t find it funny. And Mr Mayhew certainly didn’t. What’s so funny about him being gay? It’s a lot more common than you’d think, you know.”

Ted glares at them and hopes his cheeks aren’t going red. But he doesn’t have to worry, because they end up looking much more embarrassed than he feels.

“Sorry, Ted,” Bill says, his ears going red.

“It’s not me you need to apologise to,” Ted says, deciding not to bring up how they made him trek up to the big house when he felt like death. “I’d tell Mr Mayhew you’re sorry if I were you.”

They look at each other, and then nod. Ted lets himself smile this time, pleased that he’s got his own way.

\---

Ralph is coming out of his house when he is approached by Ted’s friends. He feels his heart start to race, hoping they’re not going to make a fool of him again. But it turns out that he doesn’t have to worry.

“Can we talk to you for a moment, sir,” Bill asks.

“If you want,” Ralph says, a bit confused.

“We’re sorry, Mr Mayhew, sir,” Bill says, ducking his head.

“What for?” he asks, realising after he says it how thick he sounds; it’s obvious what they want to apologise about.

“About what... what we said to you last week, sir,” Bill explains.

“We didn’t mean to upset you, Mr Mayhew, sir,” Simon adds, mumbling his words. “We’re sorry.”

Ralph stares at them, amazed; he really didn’t expect to get an apology. “Um... well... that’s all right. I... I accept your apology.”

Ralph continues to stare with wide eyes as Bill and Simon smile awkwardly and shuffle off. He can’t believe it – Ted’s friends are actually being nice to him. And then Ralph spots Ted leaning against a nearby tree, watching him. Ted sees him looking and gives him a sweet yet knowing smile, before picking up his axe and walking away.


End file.
